


moments in time

by lost_n_stereo



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, ship question meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 06:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18493615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_n_stereo/pseuds/lost_n_stereo
Summary: She gets a car for her seventeenth birthday. It’s small and sleek, a black convertible that fits her personality like a glove. Nick asks for a ride the night of her birthday party, gives her a wicked grin like he’s not only talking about the car. Sabrina laughs happily and grabs her keys, throws a see you later in the direction of her aunts and drags him outside by his hand.For a ship question meme prompt fill





	moments in time

**_who likes to go on drives to nowhere in particular_ **

She gets a car for her seventeenth birthday. It’s small and sleek, a black convertible that fits her personality like a glove. Nick asks for a ride the night of her birthday party, gives her a wicked grin like he’s not only talking about the car. Sabrina laughs happily and grabs her keys, throws a _see you later_ in the direction of her aunts and drags him outside by his hand.

“Where do you want to go?” She asks him as she starts the engine, relishing in the way the purr vibrates through her entire body. The car is quiet as a mouse as the top comes down and tucks into the back seat.

Nick reaches over and sets his hand on hers where it rests on the gear shift. “Wherever you’re going, Spellman.”

They drive until they end up in the middle of nowhere, nothing but the moon illuminating their path. When they pull over Nick raises an eyebrow, silently asking her what’s next.

Sabrina gives him a devilish grin, climbs over into the passenger seat and kisses the breath from his lungs.

**_who is in charge of the radio or playlist in the car (and what do they play)?_ **

“This band sucks.”

Nick growls, his girlfriend’s face a mix of annoyance and amusement. She likes control of the radio, hell she likes to be in control _always_ , but they have an agreement that whoever is driving gets to pick the music.

“I’m driving, Spellman,” he retorts. “My car, my music.”

Sabrina pouts, a cute little trick she’s learned will get him to do her bidding any time she likes. “Nick…”

He wants to roll his eyes when she leans over the console to brush a kiss across his cheek but he can’t. “That’s not fair,” he says and she giggles, grabs her phone from her bag and plugs it into the stereo.

“You’ll like this song, I promise.”

She plays some oldies, songs he remembers his parents listening to before they died, and when he looks over to see his girlfriend bobbing her head to the music he can’t be mad.

He doesn’t need to like the song. He just needs to love the girl.

**_who reaches over to hold the other’s hand_ **

“Tell me again why we’re here?”

Sabrina laughs, takes in his furrowed brow and narrowed eyes. Baxter High’s senior prom is in full swing, black and gold streamers and balloons covering every square inch of the school gym.

“I thought you wanted to come to this with me?” She asks, and she sees something flash across his face. Nerves, maybe. But Nicholas Scratch doesn’t get nervous or scared of anything.

“I just…” He’s quiet as he looks around. “The last time we went to a school dance I almost got you killed.”

Her heart breaks as his voice does. “Nick…don’t say that.” She reaches for his hand and brings it up to her lips, dropping a kiss to his knuckles. “I don’t blame you for that, I never have.”

He doesn’t look convinced so she grabs his other hand and turns so she’s standing directly in his line of sight.

“There is nowhere else in the world I want to be right now, Nicholas. And nobody else I want to be here with.”

There’s a flicker of worry in his eyes for a split second and then he practically melts into her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist.

“Let’s go dance,” he whispers in her ear and she nods, kisses him once quickly before dragging him behind her by the hand.

**_who is more likely to hog the bed_ **

She wakes up inside of a furnace.

At least, that’s what it feels like. Nick’s body is spread across her dorm room bed, somehow taking up all of the extra space while still being wrapped around her completely. He’s asleep on his stomach, pressed against her shoulder to ankle.

She’d be mad if he wasn’t shirtless, showing off all the hard planes of his back muscles in the pale light of the moon shining through the window.

“Nick,” she murmurs, lips pressed against the back of his shoulder. “Nicholas.” She repeats his name a little louder, pushing him a little with the tips of her fingers.

“Babe, I’m sleeping,” he says into the pillow and she snorts.

“If you’re sleeping than how are you answering me right now?” She whispers to the back of his head, laughing when he groans and flips over.

“Isn’t it bad enough you kept me up all night,” he says with a wolfish grin and she smacks his arm lightly.

“You’re hogging the bed. And you’re too hot.”

She regrets the words the minute they leave her mouth because he laughs, pulls her body so it’s under his.

“Never heard you complain before,” he says, dropping lazy kisses from shoulder to shoulder.

“You’re the worst.” It doesn’t take long before her shirt is off and on the floor next to her bed.

“Maybe, but you love me.”

**_who favors lazy morning sex_ **

Feather light touches on his back wake him up, his eyes squinting against the bright morning sun.

When he turns over she’s watching him, her eyes already alight with want, and he chuckles as he moves closer to her under the covers.

“G’morning, gorgeous.” He whispers the words across her lips and she hums in response, her eyes falling closed as he gently pushes her onto her back.

Her breath hitches when he hooks her legs around his waist. They’ve been known to get a little wild when they are alone, even breaking her dorm room bed her first week of college. But he takes his time, kisses down her neck while she breathes his name in his ear.

They are almost completely silent, open mouth to open mouth, as he rocks into her and brings her to the edge with him. Her eyes squeeze shut when she reaches the brink but he nudges her chin with his knuckle.

“Look at me, Sabrina.”

She does, her eyes blazing red fire hot into his, and he says her name like a prayer when they let go at the same time.

They are practically panting when he falls onto his back and Sabrina hooks her leg over his, despite the fact that his skin is burning hot and sweaty.

“We should start every morning just like that.”

He couldn’t agree more.

**_who likes to drink their coffee or tea outside in the mornings_ **

It’s strange, being in Nick’s bed without him.

When she started college he thought it was lame living at the academy, his words not hers, and decided to get a small apartment for himself near her campus.

It’s sweet, the way he stops by every Tuesday and Thursday to have lunch with her, and she spends more nights at his place than her dorm room.

Usually they wake up at the same time, legs intertwined under his black silk sheets. Sheets that she makes fun of him for mercilessly but in truth she loves the way the soft fabric feels surrounding her.

But this morning she’s alone and she knows that if he’s not with her there is only one place he’d be this early in the day.

She dresses in a pair of socks and the black button down he wore to Dorian’s last night. It still smells like his cologne, like warm spices and leather from his jacket, and she lifts it to her nose once quickly before setting off to find her boyfriend.

The door to the balcony is ajar, just like she knew it would be, and Nick’s relaxing in a chair with nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants sitting low on his hips. A cup of coffee in his hand, resting on his knee, is his only accessory.

She considers saying something, but he looks so peaceful that she’s content to just watch for a minute or two. His eyes are closed, head tilted back as he soaks up the morning sun.

“Enjoying the show?”

She’s startled when he speaks, a slow smirk appearing without him opening his eyes.

“I am, actually,” she admits as she makes her way over to him. He looks up at her finally, eyes playful and happy, before setting his coffee cup on the small glass table next to him and pulling her onto his lap.

“I don’t like waking up without you,” she says and he grabs her pouted bottom lip between both of his.

He kisses her senseless before whispering two words into her skin that sound like the world’s greatest promise.

“Never again.”

**_who reads the paper or watches the news_ **

There’s something to be said about a crisp newspaper in his hand.

He doesn’t care much about mortal news, if he’s being honest, but he does like to be knowledgeable in a multitude of areas. It helps in his part time job at Dorian’s, where he works as a bartender when he’s not attending upper level classes at the academy.

If someone comes in and wants to talk about the weather, or the mayoral race, or whatever the heaven else people care about, he wants to be able to hold a decent conversation.

Sabrina makes fun of him for reading the local Greendale paper, says it’s a lot of mortal nonsense as if she’s not half one herself.

But sometimes she’ll curl up on the couch next to him while he fills in the weekly crossword. Or she’ll laugh over his shoulder at a silly comic.

He finishes up the Monday paper, carefully rips out a comic that he thinks she’ll like and tacks it to his refrigerator.

When she comes in later that night, exhausted after a full day of classes, he hears her open and close the fridge before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

And that right there is worth the price of the subscription tenfold

**_who feeds and takes care of the stray cat that hangs around the house (and pretty much makes it not a stray)_ **

“We can’t have two cats.”

Sabrina huffs and looks at the tiny black kitten that is currently eating tuna out of a dish on their porch.  

“Salem isn’t even really a cat,” she argues. They have been living in this house for three weeks now and she’s been feeding this little one since the day after they moved in.

“He sure uses the litter box like one,” Nick retorts and she rolls her eyes. “Who’s going to take care of it when we’re at school and work?”

Salem meows from the other side of the porch and Sabrina snorts. “I think Salem is offering.”

Nick grumbles as he looks at the tiny mangy kitten that’s more fur than body. “How is one cat going to take care of another?” But he still moves forward and reaches down to scoop the little kitten into his arms.

“What shall we call you, small creature?” He asks as he stares into its yellow eyes.

Salem meows again and Sabrina claps. “Delphi is perfect, Salem. See, he’s taking care of her already.”

Nick narrows his eyes and looks down at Delphi, her tiny ears twitching when he says her name out loud for the first time.

“Well,” he sighs. “Welcome to the family, Delphi.”

**_who chooses the color of paint for the walls_ **

“Blue?”

Sabrina shakes her head and shuffles through the stack of paint chips in her hand. “Green?”

Nick pretends to gag which makes her laugh. “Yellow?” He asks holding up a canary shade and she pulls it from his hand and rips it in half. “Guess not.”

They play this game until there are only three paint chips left and they reach for the same one at the same time.

“Red?” Sabrina asks, eyes hopeful as she holds the cranberry swatch out to him.

“Red,” he agrees and just like that their bedroom wall has a new accent color.

Sabrina grins, tossing the paint chip over her shoulder where it lands in the center of the others.

“We make a good team,” she says as she crawls into his lap, nipping at his lips with her own.

“That we do, Spellman. That we do.”

**_who comes home with the weirder work stories_ **

His job at Dorian’s comes with certain perks.

They drink for free, for starters, which is nice because his girl loves a shot of absinthe every now and again. Dorian decided to officially open up the club to everyone, witches and warlocks alike, at Sabrina’s request. Nick knows that Dorian has a soft spot for his girlfriend and it both annoys him and pleases him at the same time.

Being a bartender also opens him up to a world of strange people and the stories that they bring with them. Sabrina likes to hear them when he gets home from work, curls up in the armchair next to the fireplace in their bedroom and listens while he tells their tall tales. Tonight is no different and as he steps out of his jeans and into a pair of sweats he tells her the latest.

“We had a warlock come in tonight that claimed to be Isaac Fawkes.” He laughs at her confused face. “One of the first stage magicians, supposedly dead for a few hundred years, but I suppose it’s not unheard of for someone to fake their death.”

“That’s fascinating. You don’t believe him?”

Nick shrugs. “Isaac Fawkes was married with children, so unless they were all witches, I highly doubt it.”

“It doesn’t really matter if it’s true or not,” Sabrina says, allowing herself to be pulled up when he reaches for her hands. He drops a kiss to her nose. “It’s a good story, either way.”

The next night at work he hears about a coven of witches in Norway that celebrates the northern lights every year with a three day festival. He listens carefully, knowing that Sabrina will love to hear about it when he returns home.

**_who takes long baths_ **

All the lights are off when she get home from school, which is strange since she saw Nick’s car parked outside.

“Nicholas?” She looks around, sees the only light shining is coming from where the bathroom door is slightly open. “Nick?”

The door opens quietly and she lets out a small gasp when she sees candles everywhere, lining every surface, some even floating in midair.

“Welcome home, Spellman.” Nick is sitting on the edge of the bathtub which is already full of water, the water so hot there is steam rising from the surface.

“What is all this?” She asks, spinning around to see the room from every angle. Their bathroom is large, the entire reason she wanted this house to begin with, and he’s managed to make it feel small and intimate.

“Just wanted to treat you to a relaxing night. Come, the water is just how you like it.” He holds his hand out and she steps between his legs. His hand comes up to her side to slide down the zipper of her skirt and she uses his shoulders to hold onto as she steps out of it.

“Will you be joining me?” She asks as she gets undressed with his help. He grins, reaches behind him to pull the Henley he’s wearing off his body.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

**_who has the full skin care routine_ **

It’s no secret that her boyfriend is a little vain.

She’s always laughed at his nighttime routine, because as a warlock he’s been blessed with practically eternal youth. His olive skin is always blemish free, a dark brown lock of hair never out of place.

But he holds a secret that he’d never tell another living soul, one that involves a shelf full of vials and potions. Only they aren’t magical, not in the strictest sense of the word.

“Nicholas,” she laughs as he washes his face that night. “You do realize you’re basically immortal, right?” This isn’t the first, tenth or even hundredth time she’s muttered these words and it definitely won’t be the last.

“Sabrina,” he says with the same inflection that she spoke his name with. “It doesn’t hurt anything to make sure my skin stays looking youthful. Trust me, you’ll thank me when we’re in our hundreds and I still look this good.”

Her heart clenches a little in her chest and she grins, slides her arms around his waist from behind. “So you think we’ll still be together in our hundreds, huh?”

“Well, I hope so,” he says, echoing the same sentiment from all those years ago on her aunts’ front porch.

She drops a kiss to the middle of his back and tells him to hurry up so they can get into bed.

He misses several steps of his nighttime routine that day.

**_who gives the other a massage when they seem tense_ **

The front door slamming startles Nick as he’s flipping pancakes in the kitchen, causing the one on his spatula to fly off and into the sink.

“Babe?” He calls out, listening to the sounds of Sabrina huffing and throwing her school bag onto the small bench by the door. Seconds later she appears in the doorway, looking adorably angry and practically stomping her foot. “Hey, everything okay?”

She scowls. “I hate my history professor, Nick. He thinks he’s so much smarter than everyone else and he’s not…oh boy, is he not.”

Nick hides a grin behind his hand. “I’m sorry, love. What happened exactly?”

She goes into a long story about correcting some information her professor was spouting and him tearing into her in front of all of her classmates. While she’s telling him he stands behind her, hands kneading into her shoulders to relieve some of her tension.

“I should turn him into a toad,” she says seriously. “Can you imagine? One day he’s talking about ancient Rome and boom!” She claps her hands once. “Frogs legs for dinner.”

Nick snorts. “You’re starting to sound like Zelda.”

It makes her shudder, he can feel it under her hands. “Shit, you’re right.”

He grins as her head starts to drop a little and she hums in satisfaction. “Is this helping?”

Sabrina reaches up and holds his hand, gives him a thankful smile over her shoulder.

“More than you know.”

**_who is more easily turned on_ **

He’s learned, over the years they have been together, that making love to a mortal, even a half mortal, is nothing like being with a witch.

And he means that in the best possible way.

It’s no secret that he’s lived many years longer than Sabrina and because of that, and the lustful ways of witches, he’s had more than his fair share of experience.

But nothing compares to how it is with Sabrina.

Every touch seems to set her on fire from the inside out. Barely there kisses make her toes curl. It’s as if her mortal side falls prey to him, amplifying every sensation no matter how many times they are together.

But then there’s the witch side, the side of her that completely and utterly _owns_ him. The fire within her pulls him under, time after time, until he’s gone entirely. It’s then that she has total control over him, sending him to his knees with a whisper or a touch.

So yes, he’s spent many years on this earth and has experienced more things than he can remember, but not a single one of them mattered until her.

**_who prefers to kick back with a drink in the evenings_ **

Dorian’s is packed wall to wall with dancing witches, bodies melding together under the lights shining above them.

Sabrina sips her drink, something fruity and pink that Dorian promised she’d love. Nick drinks his standard bourbon, one hand holding his glass on his knee and the other resting on her thigh.

“This place is insane tonight,” he says with a grimace. “Glad I had the night off.”

Sabrina leans over and kisses him, licks the taste of bourbon from her lips and relishes in the way his eyes darken as he watches the trail of her tongue.

“With this many people we really shouldn’t stay long.” Her fingertips start a slow and lazy trail starting at his wrist, up his arm to the back of his neck. She pushes her fingers into the lush hair on the back of his head and he practically growls.

“Careful, Spellman. Keep it up and I might not be able to wait until we get home.” His grip on her thigh tightens, sending chills up her spine.

Looking around, she spots a door that leads to a hallway full of offices and storage rooms, places she knows no one will look for them in.

“Maybe we can stay and drink,” she says and laughs when he pouts. “But after we…” He follows her line of sight and gives her a devilish grin.

“Ladies first.”

**_who stays up too late reading_ **

The moonlight wakes her and when she reads the clock it tells her that it’s near two in the morning.

Nick’s side of the bed is empty but she can hear soft music coming from downstairs so she knows he made it home from work okay.

She climbs down the stairs quietly, careful to miss the second step to the bottom that creaks. It’s not that she wants to scare him or spy on him, she just loves to see the Nicholas Scratch that no one else gets to see.

He’s sitting in his favorite armchair, Salem perched on one arm and Delphi curled at his feet. A large leather bound book sits in his lap. If she squints she can almost make out the words on the side, something in Latin that tells her it’s a spellbook of some kind. That doesn’t surprise her, as he’s been trying to climb the ranks in the Church of Night, on their mutual quest of helping her Aunt Zelda transform it into a coven to be proud of.

Nick absentmindedly scratches Salem on the head and she watches as her familiar purrs, nudging his hand when he stops. Sabrina chuckles, perhaps a little too loudly because Nick’s head shoots up and he raises an eyebrow when he catches her watching him.

“What are you doing up?” He asks, motioning for her to come to him, pulling her onto his lap when she reaches him.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she retorts as she runs her fingers through his hair. “I’m not supposed to wake up without you, remember?”

“To be fair, you woke up about five hours before I expected you to.” Nick presses a kiss to her knuckles and turns her hand over, placing another kiss to her palm. “I missed you tonight.”

She hums. “Just tonight?”

His eyes are warm when he looks up at her. “Whenever we’re not together,” he admits. “It’s something of a problem.”

She doesn’t fight him when he tugs her down for a kiss that lingers after he pulls away.

“What are you reading?”

They stay that way for the next hour, his arm wrapped around her waist and her hand in his hair, until they are both so tired they can barely keep their eyes open.

When they finally go to bed, both cats following loyally behind them, Nick holds her hand and doesn’t let her go, even as he drifts off to sleep.

**_who is the deep sleeper_ **

“Sabrina.”

He whispers her name against the bare skin of her shoulder but she doesn’t budge. Saying her name again, he places the small velvet box he’s been hiding for the past three weeks onto the pillow beside her cheek so it’ll be the first thing she sees when she wakes up.

“Spellman,” he says with a laugh. “I swear woman, you sleep like the dead.”

For a minute he considers maybe just letting her sleep and trying again later but then she stirs, eyelashes fluttering as she opens her eyes. She blinks a few times, the world coming into focus a little at a time, and he can see when she registers the foreign object in her direct line of sight.

“Nicholas?”

His heart is pounding in his chest and nothing has ever been this nerve-wracking, which is saying something considering he once held Lucifer himself as a prisoner inside of his body. She’s sitting up now, the small box resting on her open palm.

“Is this what I think it is?”

He chuckles softly. “If you think it’s anything other than an engagement ring, than no.” A tear falls down her porcelain cheek and his hand comes up right away to wipe it away.  “Open it up, Spellman.”

“Oh my gosh, Nicholas. Is this…” She carefully takes the ring out of the box. “It looks just like…”

“Your mother’s,” he nods. “Ambrose found a photo and I thought that you’d like it.” All of a sudden he’s second guessing himself, and he’s sure that his voice is giving him away.

“It’s the most beautiful thing in the entire world,” she whispers and all he can think as he looks at her is _impossible._

She’s the most beautiful thing in the entire world.

“So what do you say, Spellman? Think it’s time I start calling you Scratch instead?” He asks as he takes the ring from her, slides it onto her ring finger and looks into her eyes, which are quickly tearing up.

“I think I’d like that,” she says with a watery laugh, and when the ring is on her finger she gives herself a minute to look at it before tackling him onto their bed.  

“Except, it’ll be Spellman-Scratch,” she says against his lips and he laughs, holds her tightly by the waist and kisses the breath from her lungs.

“Of course,” he says in earnest. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”


End file.
